


constellations are blind

by halcyone



Series: Star Tears Disease [1]
Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, High School AU, Mystic Falls High, Sad, gardening club but it's actually just a bunch of witches, has been sitting in my drafts, hope plays lacrosse, no one knows hope is a tribrid, star tears disease, there'll be a happy ending eventually, you'll have to suffer through a few handon scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyone/pseuds/halcyone
Summary: Josie blinks, and something bright flutters past her waterline. Then there’s a dull crack and a low fizzle, reminding her of cooking oil splattering. Her fingers brush across her cheeks, wiping at her skin.Instead of the chill of water dotting her fingers, she’s left with warm glimmers, something akin to glitter. But the more she looks at it, they remind her of stars.OrA star tears disease au where Josie has to deal with dangerous feelings of unrequited love, gradually going blind.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Series: Star Tears Disease [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089299
Comments: 11
Kudos: 78





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been sitting in my drafts, and I felt like posting it.

Josie weaves through trees and slips across puddles. Rain water soaks into her skin, chilling her to the bone and stealing the feeling from her cheeks. Desperately she pushes forward, finally understanding what had been causing butterflies in her stomach and warmth flood through her chest. 

She won’t dare say it to herself, not before she can say it to Hope.

Her chest heaves, calves on fire. And when she finally turns into Hope’s neighborhood, wind lashing against her, Josie slides to a stop in the middle of the street. Her exhales condense into clouds of smoke in front of her face, and when her vision focuses, she sees two figures molded together, their heads pressing together.

Josie inhales, a fog in her head making her thoughts fuzzy. But then she understands, a light bulb flickering on slowly. 

They’re kissing. 

They’re in love. Hope loves him, not Josie. Maybe it’s because she’s a girl. But even so, the love Hope is giving isn’t directed towards her but to another.

A dull ache buries itself in her chest—it creeps towards her numb fingertips. Josie decides she’s been in the cold for far too long, and she steadily walks away, balancing on the balls of her feet. 

Her throat constricts and water glides down her face. She stares straight ahead, water drizzling everywhere. 

Josie blinks, and something bright flutters past her waterline. Then there’s a dull crack and a low fizzle, reminding her of cooking oil splattering. Her fingers brush across her cheeks, wiping at her skin.

Instead of the chill of water dotting her fingers, she’s left with warm glimmers, something akin to glitter. But the more she looks at it, they remind her of stars. 

She’s crying stars.


	2. Gardening Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters will be super short, but the fic itself will likely be around 30k.

Even before she was crying stars, Josie was captivated by constellations. 

They danced high above her, twinkling within the vast expanse of darkness that encased the sky every twelve hours. Each pattern represented something—an animal, a mythical person or creature, an inanimate object. They all held tales, narrating epics that offered some form of cautionary guidance. 

They were an easy outlet from all of her problems. The stars above were light years away, reminding her that her own troubles meant little in the grand scheme of things. She was tiny in comparison to the entirety of the universe. 

Josie was tired. She’d spent her last two periods testing, and the five periods before that were her cramming for said tests. Her only solace from her teenage hardships was gardening club, which she looked forward to attending everyday after school. 

She headed to the second floor of the new building—which wasn’t exactly new, per se, but it definitely was _newer_ than the quad building. Her lunch was in hand, completely untouched considering stress rendered her nauseous and unable to eat. 

She heard them before seeing them, but when she rounded the corner, Josie smacked into someone, feeling liquid splatter onto her clothes. She gasped as it soaked through her shirt and slipped down her face. 

“Oh, sorry love,” Sebastian lazily apologized, “you should really look where you’re going.”

Josie blinked at him, surprised by his impudence. 

“Don’t apologize to her, dude,” Jed pushed his shoulder, forcing them to walk away. “Freaks don’t deserve your… kindness.”

Josie huffed to herself as she peeled off her shirt, struggling as the collar got stuck under her chin. When she finally removed the coca-cola stained article, ocean eyes caught her attention, leaving her a blubbering mess. 

“I- uh,” Josie sputtered, crossing her arms in a sad attempt to retain her decency. 

“Sebastian’s a dick,” Hope sighed, motioning to a row of lockers. “I have an extra shirt. You can change and we can walk to gardening club.” 

“Urhm, thank you, Hope,” Josie said, heart pounding against her chest. 

They ended up in the restrooms not long after. Josie was awkwardly wiping the soda that stuck to her skin while Hope sat on the counter of the sinks. She was on her phone, paying zero attention to the brunette, but Josie still barely managed to reserve any semblance of composure. 

She’d known of Hope for most of her life, meeting her in middle school. They never interacted then, their social circles entirely different. Besides, Lizzie would never let her near the Mikaelson, always feeding her some excuse about receiving bad vibes from her. 

Hope had only ever been amicable towards her, so she never understood the bad blood her twin had with the older girl. 

“We’re practicing chain spells today,” Hope informed, slipping her phone into her back pocket. By then Josie was already dressed, wearing Hope’s Mystic Falls lacrosse jersey. It smelled of detergent and something woodsy, like pine needles. “You’re good at them, right?”

“Yeah, I know my way around them,” Josie shrugged, looking in the mirror to see the huge number three centered on the jersey. “My Aunt Bonnie taught me everything I know about magic.” 

Hope nodded in acknowledgement, having heard the name before. “Bennetts are powerful witches. Their feats are heavily ingrained in the history of magic.”

“Please,” Josie scoffed, shaking her head. “Mikaelsons are written into every supernatural textbook ever published—even those unpublished.” 

Hope’s lips curled back into a snarl. “They left me with a millennium old legacy of destruction.”

Josie froze, wholly unprepared for Hope’s outburst. 

The older girl reigned in her temper, harshly exhaling through her nose before softening. “Sorry, lashing out on you isn’t my intention. Family is a sore subject right now.”

Josie gave her a small, sad sort of smile. She empathized with Hope, expectations were placed on her before she was even born. “Do you like hot cheetos? I have a bag saved from lunch.”

“Are they limón?” 

“No.”

“I guess those will do.”

* * *

When Josie walked in with Hope to gardening club, wearing her jersey no less, whispered confusion ensued around the room. Lizzie glared at the red head, unrelenting even when she split up from her twin and found a vacated corner to inhabit. 

“Why were you with that bimbo?” Lizzie interrogated, scowling as if Josie committed a devious offense. “And what monstrosity are you _wearing_?”

“Sebastian spilled his drink on me,” Josie dismissed, rolling her eyes. “Hope spared me a shirt.” 

“You’re a _witch_ , Josette,” her twin emphasized with a narrowed gaze. “You could’ve conjured up a new blouse. Consorting with the enemy is pathetic.” 

Josie ignored the insult, allowing it to bounce right off her as if her twin hadn’t even said it at all. “She isn’t our enemy, Lizzie. She’s a person who has _feelings_.”

Lizzie insisted, “She’s Satan Incarnate.”

“Isn’t that what you call Penelope?” Josie raised a brow pointedly. 

Lizzie fumed, her rising aggression palpable. “Fine, Satan’s Evil Twin.”

Before Josie could retort, Ms. Tig clapped her hands, garnering everyone’s attention. “For our next lesson,” she said, snapping her fingers. _Chain spells_ appeared in bold font on the whiteboard. “We shall deepen our bonds with our fellow witches through chain spells.”

A collective groan erupted throughout the classroom; everyone agreeing that this wasn’t how they expected to spend their afternoon. 

If it wasn’t obvious already, gardening club was the undercover guise used to hide the practice of witchcraft. Supervised by Emma Tig, she provided the witches attending Mystic Falls high a safe place to harness and exercise their power of magic. 

Josie loved plants, don’t get it twisted, but being able to practice magic with others was the highlight of her afternoon. She mainly worked with Lizzie, but on rare occasions, she’d be granted the opportunity to develop spells with Hope, sometimes even able to siphon from her. 

The Mikaelson witch exuded raw power, unlike anything she had drawn energy from. There was a natural attraction Josie had to her, always inclined to collaborate with her when given the chance. 

Hope always let her, considering she was just about the only person who didn’t look at her like she had three heads. Besides, gardening club was the only time Josie ever actually interacted with her. Hope was a grade above her, and it wasn’t like she ever planned to join the lacrosse team any time soon. 

Ms. Tig broke down the logistics of a chain spell, explaining it to the room before insisting, “In order to cultivate a strong and intimate witch community, it is imperative that you reach past your comfort zones and practice with a partner you’ve yet to really form a connection with. If you can initiate a chain spell with someone you’ve yet to trust, then you can complete a chain spell remarkably with those you do.” 

“Ms. Tig, it’s unbeneficial for me to team up with any of the halfwits here,” snidely remarked Alyssa Chang. “I mean some of them are incapable of performing even the simplest of spells.” She shot a piercing glare towards Wade who lowered his head, feeling incredibly small. 

He wasn’t gifted with innate magical control, having to work triple as hard to progress with his abilities. 

“Ms. Chang, it seems you already have strong opinions towards your peers,” Emma announced, a single brow raised. “Mr. Dumont may need your assistance with the concepts of chain spells.” She pinned Alyssa with an unrelenting gaze, not taking no for an answer. 

Wade sighed, slouching further in his seat. 

Lizzie snickered beside her, and Josie elbowed her twin in the ribs, causing her to quiet down. 

Everyone was paired with people they were uncomfortable with, forcing them to have many stiff interactions, but by some miracle, Hope was left with Josie. They were perched on high stools in front of the window, where sunlight reflected golden against Hope’s fiery hair and ocean eyes. 

She vaguely reminded her of warm evenings spent in the park.

“Have you ever done dark magic before?” Hope asked, pulling out a grimoire from her backpack. 

“I’ve set my ex on fire before,” Josie mentioned casually, rubbing her neck. “My parents and Aunt Bonnie insist I steer clear from all black magic though.” 

She glanced over at Penelope who was paired with Wendy, a smug expression plastered on her features as per usual. 

“Oh, so you’re a rule breaker,” Hope smirked, pulling up the sleeves of her denim jacket. “It seems I learn more and more about you everyday, Saltzman.”

Josie shrugged coyly, the slightest quirk to her lips. “How well versed are you with summoning spells?” She said, crossing her wrists as she reached for Hope’s hands. “I have a bone to pick with Sebastian.” 

“I know my way around them,” Hope repeated her words from earlier, her smirk yet to falter. They clasped hands, wrists intersected, and Josie relaxed into the feeling, memorizing how their hands so effortlessly slid together. “Take the lead? I’ll match whatever you expend.” 

Josie used to see siphoning as only a disadvantage, always relying on other sources of power to initiate any form of magic, and while it was detrimental in immediate circumstances, it could be an incredibly visceral experience. 

Hope emitted power on a completely different plane, exuding sheer energy that was quick to overwhelm any who came in contact with it. Magic thrummed beneath her fingertips as she drew it out from the Mikaelson, becoming invigorated and feeling unstoppable. 

Hope’s intensity was unlike any others’ because the moment she recited the incantation, the magic radiating from them forced a gust of wind to blast the room, sending papers flying. The window blinds were rattling forcefully, and their hair danced behind them. 

They chanted the words in concise synchronicity, basking in the hum of potent magic that clogged the atmosphere. Being able to connect with someone through their energy was a different type of intimacy, one that Josie only ever really enjoyed doing with Hope. 

The Mikaelson’s reservoir of magic never seemed to end. 

“Bloody hell!” Sebastian shrieked somewhere outside. “Someone help! Bollocks that’s enough!” 

Josie pulled away first, chuckling into her hand in a terrible attempt to smother her amusement. Hope didn’t even bother to hide her mirth, entire chest heaving with the force of her laughter. The classroom of witches all gave them confused looks, but Ms. Tig smiled knowingly. 

Lizzie stood up, screeching her stool next to her twin before questioning, “What’d you do?” 

“Revenge is a tale as old as time,” Josie shrugged, unable to keep the cheeky grin off of her face. 

“I swear if you did something to Seb—” Lizzie hissed. 

“Saltzman,” Naomi Scotia interrupted, arms crossed, “we have a chain spell to finish.”

Naomi was a member of the local goth coven, having attended school with them since they were kids. Her looks were killer, wearing a black corset, a red plaid skirt, and excessive amounts of black makeup. Dark hair was tied into a ponytail, and her pale skin was a stark contrast to her shadowy aesthetic.

If Josie was being honest, she was a little terrified but smiled through it. 

“Hi Naomi,” Josie greeted, untucking her septum piercing from her nose, as if that would somehow score her brownie points. 

Surprisingly, it did. 

Naomi’s face split into a grin, and she said, “Fuck it up, Nicer Saltzman. Didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Hope sat beside Josie, mildly amused but staying quiet. She had no clue Josie had a septum piercing, only noticing her many helix piercings.

“Nicer Saltzman?” Lizzie huffed, completely offended. “My compassion is _limitless_.”

Glad for the interruption that distracted her twin from her antics with Sebastian, Josie asked, “What chain spell were you doing? Hope and I can help.”

Naomi’s face fell at that, narrowing her eyes at Hope. The Mikaelson tensed up, crossing her arms. She didn’t have any qualms with Scotia, but with the way she was looking at her, her defenses raised. 

“Since when were you on a first name basis with the Mikaelson?” Naomi questioned, as if Josie and her were close and knew of each other’s friends. Whispers circulated around the room, hushed gossip spewing past every witch’s lips. 

She knew that wearing Hope’s jersey wasn’t helping her case at all. 

Hope jumped off her stool, shoving her grimoire into her backpack. “I just remembered I have someone to kill.” An echo of gasps exploded in the room before she continued, “Since, you know, that’s what all of you expect of me anyway.”

There was a sudden knock on the door, disrupting the strained ambiance. Landon peaked his head in, sheepishly blabbering, “Uh, er, hi Ms. Tig! I’m just here for Hope.”

Hope noticeably eased, her shoulders drooping. “Hey, Lan. I just finished up here.” 

With a sugar sweet smile, Landon easily intertwined their hands in a more significant way than when Josie and Hope were doing it earlier. And when they left, a knot was coiled tightly in Josie’s stomach. 

She felt bitter. 

Lizzie covered her mouth, gagging, “I feel nauseous.” 

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is a dick. You'll have to suffer through a few Handon scenes because unrequited love is a bitch. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you want to. 
> 
> @_halcyone on twitter <3


	3. Lacrosse Game

Josie was walking down the halls, heading to the senior lockers when she overheard Sebastian wailing like a toddler. 

“It was some Paranormal Activity absurdity, I swear,” he dramatized, “I was being dragged across the floors by _air_!”

“What crack did you smoke, dude?” Jed hissed, nudging his shoulder. 

Josie snickered. It was what he deserved after the past year of unprovoked torment. Maybe she should mess with Jed a bit, too. Hope would most likely help her; they definitely bonded over the prank they pulled on Sebastian. 

She steered clear of them nonetheless. Any confrontation with the popular kids usually left her with reinforced insecurities and ruined clothes, so it was best to keep to herself. Besides, she was on a mission to return a certain someone’s jersey. 

She heard about the lacrosse game tonight, apparently they were going to play against their biggest rivals—the Beacon Hills Cyclones. 

Josie could care less for sports. She lacked hand-eye coordination, or any coordination, really. She was practically Bambi on ice at all times of the day. 

She was beginning to think Hope wasn’t at school, seconds away from giving up on her search, but when the warning bell rang out, she finally found the older girl. She was clad in a burgundy crop top and high-waist jeans with black booties to give her extra height. She needed them considering how tiny she was.

Somehow, Hope made being short adorable.

She was talking to a girl with dark curls and a caramel tan complexion. Josie vaguely recognized her as one of the cheerleaders. Her brother might be the football team’s quarterback if she could remember correctly. 

Josie wasn’t one to interrupt a conversation, waiting for a pause in discussion so she could assert herself. Yet this time was different. She couldn’t quite place it, but in that moment, she felt ten feet tall. 

“Hi Hope.” She sifted through her backpack before handing the jersey back to the witch, barely acknowledging the cheerleader. “I came to drop this off.” 

“I was going to find you after school,” Hope said, immediately lighting up. Something tightened in Josie’s stomach at the thought. The older girl seeking her out was rare in occurrence, but always was a pleasant surprise. “But thank you.”

Josie shrugged, faking nonchalance. “You have a game tonight, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Hope nodded, opening up her locker and tossing in her jersey. “Maya here is going to be cheering front and center.” 

Maya smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She radiated a natural confidence that Josie rarely ever emanated.

“And I will look damn good doing it,” Maya declared, winking and blowing a kiss to some girl on the opposite side of the hall. 

“Are you going to watch, Saltzman?” Hope asked with a look of… anticipation almost? Did Hope want her to go? 

“I might have to photograph for the yearbook,” Josie mentioned, retaining her composure. She actually wasn’t a photographer, only an editor, but she could ask Wade for this one, small favor. “Wade took a lacrosse stick to the face, so I don’t think he’s too keen on taking sports pictures anymore.”

Hope laughed—it was sweet and a little more than contagious. The warmth that spread across Josie’s skin and settled in her chest wasn’t a new feeling. Hope always had this effect on her, capable of brightening her day in minutes. 

“It’s a date then,” she grinned, closing her locker with her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you dragged me to a lacrosse game,” Lizzie groaned, wrapping a blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Sebastian doesn’t even play lacrosse. He’s on the swim team.”

Josie’s breath curled into wisps of gray, condensing with the sharp drop in temperature. Her fingers were numb, stiff as they clung to the camera in hand. It was late February, which still qualified as winter, and she only had a zip-up and jeans to keep her warm.

She _had_ a blanket, too. But what was hers was also her twin’s. 

“Wade doesn’t want to do sports pictures anymore,” she said, rubbing her palms together because maybe, just maybe it would keep her hands warm. “And Raf has work tonight, so he couldn’t make it.” 

“Aren’t there like twelve other nerds who could do it?” Lizzie whined, startling when MG sat down next to her on the bleachers. “When I said I would let you plan twin night, this wasn’t how I expected it to go.” 

“Hey Ladies,” MG plastered on a blinding smile, emitting an easy-going demeanor that Josie needed in the moment. “Ready for the Timberwolves to kick Cyclone ass!”

“No.”

“Is our team even that good?”

MG paused, unprepared for blatant pessimism. The twins met him freshman year, back when he wasn’t a vampire yet. He was struggling with his transitions, still wary of situations that involve blood—like high school sports games.

But the twins were capable of disarming him if it ever came down to it. 

MG placed his hand over his heart, leaning back. “Where’s the school spirit? Why come to a game with a losing attitude?”

“I’m here for the yearbook,” Josie raised her shoulders, bringing the camera up to her face when she noticed the teams running onto the field. 

“And I’m here for twin moral support.” Lizzie cocooned herself more in the blanket, sending her twin a withering glare. She said that as if Josie was a charity case. 

In this cold weather, maybe she was. 

MG deflated, knowing his optimism to be useless in the face of the twins. Josie spent most of the game confused, snapping pictures at faceless players because their helmets made it difficult to distinguish who was who. She barely payed any attention to the cheerleaders who were tumbling on the sidelines, but she gave them the courtesy of capturing their stunts. 

When Hope came sprinting over, Josie could tell by the three emblazoned on the front of her jersey, the ocean eyed girl lifted her helmet up. A layer of sweat glistened against her skin, shining brighter due to the stadium lights, and two black stripes were smeared across her cheekbones. Her eyes were brighter than normal, and her pale features were tinted red. 

With every winded exhale, a frost of smoke filtered into the night. 

Josie couldn’t look away. 

“Saltzman, get my good side will you?” Hope grinned, winking at her. 

If Josie was rapidly clicking on the camera button, she wouldn’t know until later when she looked through her photos. But for now, she swallowed down the lump in her throat and quipped with a smirk, “Do you even have a good side?”

Lizzie bursted out laughing beside her, clinging onto MG before she’d accidentally fall off the bleachers. Josie didn't know where this confidence stemmed from, how she was able to be witty when it came to banter with the Mikaelson.

Hope chuckled, this low and sensual laugh that flushed Josie’s skin and left her feeling warm all over. With a shake of her head and a fond smile, Hope pulled down her helmet and ran back to her position. 

When Josie finally differentiated between each player by their jersey number, she recognized Jed running around the field every time they scored while Hope remained calm and collected, preparing for the next play. It was then that Josie realized the Mikaelson was the only girl on the team, surrounded by a sea of testosterone filled boys. 

She was evading and outsmarting the opposing team with precision, always providing Jed and other score goalers—Josie had no clue what the names of the positions were—with openings that were accessible and led to easy scoring. 

She was a complete machine on the field. 

Hope had the agility and reaction times of a werewolf. Josie noticed this after marveling over her for at least an hour. But that would be impossible, considering she’s a witch. Well, not technically impossible seeing as her father was the Original Hybrid.

Josie dismissed the thought completely. Hope might’ve developed some enhancement potion or spell for all she knew. 

Cheering erupted from the stands, and they _won_ which was a little surprising considering the Cyclones were flipping over players like it was nothing. Josie wondered if there were any werewolves or vampires on the other team, aware that most of the Mystic Falls werewolf pack played on most sports teams. 

Josie ended up in the middle of the field, snapping close up pictures of the Timberwolves’ victory. Everyone was shouting, stomping on the bleachers and hoisting up their captains onto their shoulders. She was too invested in capturing the moment that she didn’t notice the pack of players running to Jed with a giant water jug in hand. 

She felt it before really seeing it, but a shriek careened past her throat and a shiver shot down her spine. Water drenched her clothes and doused the camera. She was trembling. 

A few of the boys were laughing at her, smacking each other’s backs as if they did something honorable. It was sickening. Their amused exhales crawled under her skin, burrowing within her bones like poison. 

Combined with the freezing weather, the icy water shot awake her senses, and like gasoline on an open fire, she was fuming. 

Jed was shouting next to her, something akin to a “hell yeah!” 

It wasn’t a conscious decision when she reached out, snatching the collar of his jersey. A growl scraped against his throat, and he leered down at her, threatening gaze shining molten gold. 

Scarlet blazed from the hold she had on him, siphoning the adrenaline high he was riding. She dragged it out of him, invigorating herself with a fury werewolves were known for. There was a fire in her belly, raging and flaring, begging for release. 

“Not here, Saltzman,” he snarled, pushing her off of him. 

Hope was quick to save her from further embarrassment, catching her before she fell on her ass. Her arms hooked under Josie’s armpits, steadying her. She glided their hands together, clasping them firmly and leading her down to the locker rooms. 

All the tension held in Josie’s muscles released. She focused on Hope’s stability, the steady way she guided her. Surrendering control to her was easy. She didn’t want this boundless intensity that was threatening to consume her. 

It craved for her to take _more_.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Josie mumbled, watching her feet take one step in front of the other. If she concentrated hard enough, maybe a fissure would appear to swallow her whole—wipe everyone’s memory of her. Maybe it would dry her too because she’s fucking _cold_.

With a reassuring squeeze, Hope comforted her, “You’re supernatural. You felt threatened.”

“My fuse usually isn’t this short.” She bit her lip, a struggle warring inside her head. There were lingering flames, still hungry for a fight. 

Hope shrugged. “We have our bad days. And you didn’t end up hurting anyone, so I’d say that’s a win.” 

Josie looked at her then, really looked. Her helmet was off, allowing her two french braids to fall freely. Grass stains littered her uniform, and there was a gash along her calf. Her hand was clammy in her own, excess sweat from her hard work. 

She was a force of nature, and Josie was clinging to her. 

She wondered what was going on inside her head—why she even decided to help Josie in the first place. It was unexpected because for the past three years, Hope would barely look her way, barely acknowledge her existence. 

What changed?

The girls’ locker room was empty, only filled with stuffed lockers and relatively clean showers. It was eerily silent, only the hum of the overhead lights filtered throughout the area. 

Josie gently placed the camera on a bench. “I don’t suppose you know any technology drying spells,” she asked sheepishly, playing with the sleeves of her soaked sweater. 

“I do actually,” Hope snorted, tossing a clean hoodie at her. “You can change while I work on it.”

“Thanks again.” Josie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, joking, “Maybe I should start bringing an extra set of clothes everywhere I go.” 

Hope looked up through long lashes, fiddling with the camera in hand. “You look good in my clothes though,” she cheekily replied with a shit eating grin. 

Josie’s heart skipped a beat, and she was grateful that Hope didn’t have supernatural hearing. 

It’d be embarrassing. Her heart practically stuttered every time she was with her.

* * *

Josie didn’t understand why her eyes burned every time she saw Hope with Landon. She was happy for her, truly, because everyone within the supernatural community ostracized her for being a Mikaelson. So it was reasonable for her to befriend humans, but...

Her throat was constricting in the familiar way that it would when trying to choke back a sob. 

It was disconcerting to say the least.

Like now, Josie was on her way to gardening club, ready to spend the afternoon practicing magic with Lizzie while subtly admiring Hope. She was texting her mom, reminding her that Lizzie and her would be home later and that they expected to have a girls’ night with her. 

Of course, when Josie didn’t pay attention to where she was walking, things always seemed to go wrong. 

“I’ve never been to the Spring Festival before, maybe we should—”

Her phone jostled in her hands and slipped out of her grip as she bumped into someone, but before it hit the linoleum floor, two hands grabbed onto it. 

“Fuck sorry,” Josie grumbled under her breath, looking up. 

Hope, with incredibly sharp reflexes, had picked her phone out of the air before it smashed against the ground. Handing it back, her eyes crinkled at the corners. “My lacrosse reflexes aren’t that bad, huh?” 

“They’re subpar,” Josie replied, lips quirked the slightest. “Could be better.”

Hope rolled her eyes, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but Landon slung his arm over her shoulders, cutting in, “Hey, Josie right?” 

Josie had the sudden urge to flat out ignore him, but she remained genial despite the annoyance. “Yeah, Landon right? You were in the school musical, weren’t you? I think it was Footloose.” 

“Mhmm,” he saluted her, then realized what he was doing and clumsily stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I was casted as Ren.”

“Ren’s understudy, Hot Shot.” Hope patted his back, quick to shoot him down. 

Landon flustered, and a small part of Josie enjoyed seeing Hope belittle his achievement. 

“You still love me anyway,” he mused, sliding his hand into Hope’s. Josie’s heart plummeted at the declaration, choking on thin air. 

Hope was seconds away from either affirming or denying that statement, but Josie would rather be run over by a bus then hear her sweetly agreeing. So she faked a look at her wrist—there wasn’t even anything there. “Would you look at the time? I just remembered Lizzie really needs me right now.” 

Without receiving a response, she rushed around them, wondering why her eyes burned. It reminded her of when she had staring contests as a kid, the sensation causing tears to well up. 

She didn't cry, but she felt like she was on the verge of something devastating.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll likely write more for this, but I just wanted it out there. Tell me what you think...?
> 
> @_halcyone on twitter <3
> 
> My friend introduced to me the concept of star tears disease, which is essentially like the hanahaki disease, but instead of dying from flowers in your lungs, unrequited love leads to becoming blind and then eventually losing all memory of the one you love.


End file.
